


I Know Where They Go

by embroiderama



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's 18, and he meets a nursing student who has a thing or two to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Where They Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [looleebelle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=looleebelle).



Sam's just six weeks past his eighteenth birthday, two weeks past high school graduation, and he's barely managed to get a taste for being really, legally an adult. Dad, on the other hand, has already figured out how convenient it can be to have both of his sons over eighteen. Sam bites his lip and folds over in the little plastic chair, trying to stretch out his back and relax himself at the same time.

Dean's unconscious and a couple of rooms away, but Sam can still hear that Dean voice in his head, telling him to give Dad a break, give him the benefit of the doubt. Dad had stayed at the hospital long enough to find out that Dean was stable, and he'd taken off to finish up the hunt that had nearly killed Dean. Sam doesn't really think Dad had wanted to leave, but if Sam hadn't been of age, hadn't been able to stand in for Dad as Dean's next of kin, Dad would have had to stay. Stay put and sit in the uncomfortable chairs and eat vending machine snacks that only make Sam thirsty and a little sick. Sicker than he already feels from the memory of Dean's blood--the gash on his head and the spreading purple bruise on his side.

Eventually, the doctor comes out looking for the family of Dean Crawford and tells Sam that Dean's done having stitches and scans, at least for now, and that he's being moved up to a regular room. She talks to Sam in a gentle voice, using a lot of small words, and Sam wants to tell her that he's not that delicate, not that stupid about medical things. He's waited in too many clinics and emergency rooms before--he's just never done it by himself. She says they need to get Dean situated, that it'll be an hour until Sam can go see Dean, and Sam just nods. He follows the signs to the cafeteria and buys himself a nondescript cheeseburger and an apple and a really big cup of Dr. Pepper. It's an off hour, not really lunch anymore, too early for dinner, and Sam has the room almost to himself.

There's a girl in purple scrubs sitting at a table alone. She's cute, the way she has her legs folded up to sit Indian-style on the chair, and Sam watches as she eats a muffin. She has sort of a process--she rips off a bite-size chunk of the muffin, then spreads some butter on it with a plastic knife and squeezes on some honey from a little packet before popping it into her mouth. She follows each bite with a drink of coffee or tea and then goes back to preparing the next chunk. It's a lot more interesting than the limp burger Sam's eating, but he doesn't realize how intently he's staring until she looks up at him, her eyes a little wide and startled.

He tries to smile, knowing he probably comes off as a total dork, and then looks down at his plate. When he gets the courage to look back up, she's smiling. Before Sam can finish his food, she eats the last chunk of her muffin and leaves. Sam thinks about following her, but he just watches her go. Her scrubs are a size too big, but he can still see the shape of her body, the curve of her hips as she walks out of sight.

~~~

The chair in Dean's room is a little bit more comfortable than the chairs in the waiting room, but Sam still can't get comfortable. Dean's still unconscious, though the doctor says he should wake up tomorrow. Sam wishes he had something to do--school work, chapters to read, a paper to write--but high school's over and done with and college is nearly nine weeks away. Sam has money for a bus ticket saved up and folded inside a sock in his duffel bag; his secret's hidden inside him the same way. He can't figure out how to tell Dean, and sitting there next to his unconscious brother he can feel the guilt like a swelling ball in his chest, squeezing out unimportant things like his lungs and his heart.

He scoots his chair around and bends over, resting his elbows on the mattress of Dean's bed. Dean's chest rises and falls shallowly but regularly--no big tube in his mouth, not even an oxygen tube on his nose. "Dean?" Sam watches Dean's face, but he doesn't react, doesn't twitch. "I'm going to college. I'm going to college in California."

Sam swallows hard and rubs his hands over the denim on his thighs. He's never said the words before to any other human being.

"I'm going to Stanford on a full scholarship, and--" Sam hears two quick raps on the already-open door and looks up to see the girl in the purple scrubs from the cafeteria. "Hi." He bites on his lip to push back the tears he feels burning behind his eyes and does his best to smile at her.

"Hey, good afternoon." She smiles back, walking inside. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time. I just need to check on your, uh--"

"Brother." Sam nods and looks down. As she walks closer, he can see she has on black and purple sneakers under her scrubs.

"Your brother's vitals. The nurses told me to check up on you, too."

Sam looks up from his contemplation of the floor tiles. "Aren't you a nurse?"

She shakes her head and flips her badge around so that Sam can see it better. "I'm a nursing student, working here as an intern for the summer. I know how to take a temperature, though."

"Yeah, I mean--I didn't mean--" Sam feels like he's insulted this girl, Gaby according to her name badge, and that sucks even more than it usually would because she's cute and nice and has what looks like a whole lot of dark brown hair coiled up in a loose bun on her head. Then again, she's probably engaged to a med student or something. "I just thought you were a nurse, that's all."

"It's okay, happens all the time." She sticks a thermometer in Dean's ear and writes the number down on his chart. "Anyway, I'm only twenty. I have another year of school left before I can get the RN on my badge."

"Oh, that's cool." _Dork._ Sam wants Dean to wake up and smack him in the head. "I'm starting college in the fall."

"I think I heard you say, um--" Gaby pauses, a blush washing over her pale olive skin. "Stanford?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to decide between History and Pre-Law. Or maybe International Studies."

"That's cool!" Gaby puts Dean's chart back in its slot at the end of the bed. "Okay, as far as I can tell it looks like your brother's doing good. Maybe I'll see you later?"

"I hope so." Sam immediately wants to kick himself for sounding stupid and over-eager, but she just gives him a small smile that lights up her brown eyes and walks away.

Sam sits back down and looks over at Dean's peacefully blank face. If Dean were awake, he'd have Gaby's number already, probably on his way to getting into whatever panties she has on under her purple scrub pants. Sam doesn't know how he's supposed to be confident like that, how he's supposed to know the right kinds of things to say to girls, the right way to say them. Dean just breathes and walks, and the words come out, and they're right.

Sam chokes and falls on his face, and everything he says feels incredibly stupid. It's easier when girls come and talk to _him_; once they get to know each other a little, he can talk without feeling like a gawky idiot. Then things can be great, awesome. On a few occasions, _really_ awesome. Sam figures that without girls who are willing to come and talk to tall, geeky boys he'd still be a virgin, and Dean would never let him live that down.

~~~

At 8 p.m. one of the nurses walks in and nods sharply at Sam. "Okay, time for you to get out of here."

Sam figures they just need to take care of Dean's catheter or maybe pull his gown up to check something, so he stands up because he doesn't really want to see that. At all. "Okay, I'll just be out in the hall."

"Sorry, kid." The nurse shakes his head. "Visiting hours are over, time for you to go somewhere else."

Sam looks at Dean then crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm supposed to stay here."

The nurse sighs and turns to look at Dean's chart. "Look, your brother's doing fine. His vitals have improved, and I'm guessing that after the doctor comes for rounds tomorrow morning he'll lighten up the medication Dean's getting in his IV. I'd bet on Dean waking up before lunch tomorrow, and he'll do better without you being all dirty and exhausted. Go get dinner, get a shower, get some sleep."

Sam feels his shoulders tighten at the man's tone. He sounded like Dad, must've been in the military when he was younger, and strangely enough that makes it easier to relax and let his hands drop to his sides. "If I leave my number, will you call if he wake up or if--if something happens?"

"Sure, kid. Leave it with Amy at the desk out there."

He grabs his backpack, looks at Dean, and then turns away.

Out at the nurses' station, Sam leaves his number with the woman sitting there. She reads it back to him, and it's right, but it still feels wrong, walking away from Dean when he's unconscious, vulnerable in a way Dean so rarely is. Still, Sam knows the nurse guy wasn't kidding around about making him leave. He has enough cash to pay for a room and something to eat, probably even enough for a cab if he needs one, but it's been a long day, and Sam just can't decide where to go next. He sits down in one of the chairs by the elevator and stares at his hands, picking tiny bits of Dean's blood out from around his nails.

He sees purple legs pass by in front of him, and he looks up as Gaby sits down on the chair across from him, bending her knees up so that the heels of her sneakers are just at the edge of the seat. "Ray kicked you out?"

"Yeah. I guess I should go get a room."

Gaby lifts one eyebrow, and Sam can't help but notice that her eyes are really big and kind of nice to stare at. "A hotel room?"

"Well, motel I hope. Something on the not so expensive side."

"Crap, the race is in town. You're not going to find anything other than maybe like _really_ expensive within a half hour drive."

Sam slumps down in his chair, feeling pissed all over again about Dad leaving him there alone. He forces a smile for Gaby's benefit. "I guess I'll be sleeping in the waiting room tonight."

"No way, that sucks. Why don't you come back to my place?"

"I don't--um." Sam swallows hard against a rush of panic and something else--want. "Why would you want to let me do that?"

"Because you're a decent guy. And kind of cute. And way too tall to sleep on one of those little couches." Gaby smirked. "And I have a much longer couch at home."

"But how do you know I'm a decent guy?" It feels wrong, to go home with a girl like that even if he was going to sleep on the couch. "I could be dangerous."

"I trust my gut. And anyway, how do you know I'm not the dangerous one?"

Sam laughs and then bites it back when she glares at him. "I think I can defend myself."

"I think I can, too. And anyway, I live with my brother. You have a couple inches on him, but he's like--" She gestures with her hands, holding them several inches away from her biceps. "Bigger. Ears like a bat. Look, you can take a shower, we can order some Mexican or something and then you can sleep. On the couch. I'll give you a ride back here tomorrow morning. What do you say?"

It sounds incredibly good to Sam, and he can't find it in himself to say no. "I say thank you. And let's go."

"Awesome." Gaby drops her feet down to the floor and pops up. Sam follows behind.

~~~

Gaby's couch is surprisingly long and comfortable, and Sam sleeps the night through, only waking up a few times to check his phone and make sure Dad or the hospital hasn't called. In the morning, Gaby comes out of her bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt with her hair looped up multiple times in some kind of complicated ponytail. Sam tries not too look too hard, but she definitely doesn't have a bra on under her shirt, and she dances a little while she waits for the coffee to brew. Sam figures she doesn't really know she's doing it; her bare feet are flat on the floor, but her hips are moving around, making shapes in the air, moving to the rhythm inside her head.

Sam eats his cereal and puts his socks and shoes on, and when Gaby comes out to give him a ride to the hospital she's wearing worn gray jeans with a dark green hippyish shirt on top. "No scrubs?"

"My shift doesn't start until noon. I figured I'd run you over and then get some other stuff done before work."

"I can--"

She holds up a hand to cut Sam off. "You can't wait until then to go in because you'll go crazy worrying about your brother, and you can't call a cab because that's just stupid when we're a five minute drive away."

"Okay. I keep having more things to thank you for."

"Eh, it's good karma. Anyway, maybe you'll figure out a way to make it up to me."

They walk out to the car, and Sam feels himself blushing even though he's not sure why.

~~~

Dean looks the same as when Sam left the night before--a little less pale maybe, and Sam figures that's a good sign. Sam sits in the chair next to Dean's bed and reads the sci-fi novel he picked up in the gift shop until the nurses chase him out to go get lunch. Less than an hour after he comes back from the cafeteria Dean finally wakes up. He's in pain from his head and his ribs, and he's completely bitchy about it, but Sam can't stop smiling. Dean drifts back to sleep after not too long, but when he wakes up around dinner time he's lucid enough to start asking questions.

"Where's Dad? Is he--"

"He's fine. Just took off to chase the thing down, finish the hunt." Sam shakes his head, forcing himself not to get Dean upset by complaining about Dad too much. "He left me here to keep an eye on you."

Dean rolls his eyes and then winces. "Did you stay _here_ all night? How long've I been here anyway?"

"You got here yesterday morning, so like a day and a half. And they wouldn't let me stay here. I, uh, I went home with a girl."

"Aw, Sammy got some action. 'm so proud."

"I slept on the couch, Dean. We just, you know, talked and stuff."

"Pussy."

Sam glares at Dean but doesn't bother fighting it. "She asked me to stay at her place again tonight. There aren't really any motel rooms available. Some race thing."

"Sounds like a good excuse to me." Dean manages a pathetic sort of lopsided leer.

"Dad should be back tomorrow, and we can probably get you out of here then. Anyway, they'll probably kick me out before you wake up again tonight."

Dean narrows his eyes as much as he can when they're drooping closed. "'m not fallin' 'sleep." And then he's out.

~~~

Gaby's waiting for Sam outside of Dean's room when he leaves at eight.

"Hey. How's your brother doing?"

"Better. He's awake and as annoying as usual."

"Yeah, big brothers are like that. Speaking of which, my brother's working tonight. I could cook something maybe."

"I want to buy you dinner." Sam has enough money in his wallet, the money he didn't have to spend on a room thanks to Gaby. "Something decent, not McDonalds."

"Okay, well, thanks! Do you like Italian?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

"You have a point. Okay, I know a good place that's not far. They have awesome stuffed shells."

At the restaurant, Sam sits eating his ziti with meat sauce and trying to figure out if he's on a date or not. It feels sort of like a thank you dinner and sort of like two people who both just need to eat dinner and sort of like a date. Every few minutes, Gaby's tongue darts out of her mouth, licking marinara sauce out of the corners of her lips, but Sam wants to reach out and wipe away the one smudge she keeps missing. He wants to play with the tendril of hair that's fallen down from her bun to hang at the side of her face. When she bends over laughing he can see a hint of cleavage in the v-neck of her scrubs top, and he has to clench his hand around his fork to keep from doing something that would probably get him thrown out of the restaurant.

It's all so distracting, and by the time they're done eating they're the only customers left in the place. Sam takes care to leave a good tip and then follows Gaby back out to her car. For all their chatting over dinner, the ride home is oddly silent. It's also short and by the time they walk into the little house Sam still hasn't figured out what he should say.

Gaby turns the lock on the front door and then turns to smile up at Sam. "So, you don't have to sleep on the couch tonight if you don't want to." Sam swallows, not sure if he can really breathe, and then Gaby reaches up and pulls some kind of little combs out of her hair. It's long, longer than he had realized, dark brown hair falling down past her waist, and Sam needs to touch it more than he needs to breathe.

He steps closer and reaches out, tangling his fingers in the soft length of it before ducking his head to kiss Gaby. Her mouth tastes a lot like his own, garlic and tomato and bitter black coffee, but her lips are soft and strong and her tongue slips against his like she wants to get deeper inside. She pushes closer to him, her stomach pressing against his hips, and Sam's world narrows to his cock and how much it wants _out_ of his jeans. How much it wants _in_. He pulls away from the kiss and gasps in a ragged breath of air. "You uh, you have a bed?"

"I have a bed." Her voice is as eager as his own, and she reaches between them, pulls off her top and the sports bra underbeath in one quick move. Her breasts are full, dark pink nipples tapering to a point. Sam reaches out to touch, and she intercepts his hand. "In my bedroom." She keeps his hand as they walk to her room, but Sam manages to work open his jeans one-handed.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Sam strips off his pants and shirts, and when he looks over at her she's naked, gently rounded belly and a dark patch of hair over strong legs, her amazingly long hair swaying behind her. He feels suddenly ridiculous in just his boxers, the front of them tenting up, so he strips them off and finally breathes free as his cock bobs against his belly.

Gaby shoves the covers on her bed down and climbs up, and Sam feels himself blushing again. The only girl he went all the way with, in a bed and everything, had only let him see her in her pretty underwear, then she turned the lights way down before letting Sam take off her panties. It had been good, really good, but her body had been a mystery she never let Sam solve. Gaby--she's kneeling on her bed, the curve of her ass just over the soles of her feet, and her knees are just far enough apart to let Sam see the pink shape of her. He climbs up on the bed in front of her, self-conscious of the slick weight of his cock between them.

She rolls her shoulders back, lifting her breasts up higher, and that's all the invitation Sam needs to touch, cupping the curve of them in his fingers, his thumbs brushing across her nipples. She shifts her hips at that, tipping her head back to stretch out her neck, and Sam dives in to taste. Her skin pebbles up under his tongue, and it's softer than he could have imagined, more delicate than he thinks any part of his own body can possibly be. He feels his balls tighten and he pulls away, wrapping a hand around the base of his dick and pulling in deep breaths until he feels like he's not right on the edge.

The bed tips as Gaby leans over to the side, and Sam can hear her sliding a drawer open. "Here," she says. "Come on."

Sam looks up and sees her tearing open a condom packet. If she touches him, if she puts it on for him--Sam doesn't think he could last through that, so he takes it from her hand and smoothes it on himself. She lays down, bending her legs alongside Sam's hips as he kneels over her. Her warm hands on his ass pull him in closer, and he pushes his way inside where it's slick and warm and _oh God, oh my God_. Her legs are wrapped around his back, her hands on his arms, and he tries to last, tries to be smooth, to breathe, but it's no use.

His breath shudders in his chest, his hands tremble against the mattress, and he comes, jerking his hips against Gaby's and panting out "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" until she whispers "shhhhh" in his ear and rubs her hand through the sweat on his back, calming him down, pulling him down to rest against her as she uncoils her legs from around him.

"I'm sorry," he says again, as soon as he gets his breath back. As good as he feels, there's a sick twist of shame in his gut.

"It's okay. There's plenty of better ways for me to get my fun. Come on, let's get the condom off before it leaks."

That sounds like a really bad thing, so Sam reaches down to hold the top of the condom on himself as he pulls out. He knots off the top of it, and Gaby takes it from him, tosses it over her bedside table to a little trash can Sam hadn't even noticed. "I don't, um, what do you want me to do?"

Gabby takes Sam's hand again and spreads his fingers open, holding her own much-smaller hand against his. "I can think of five or ten ways."

"I--oh!" He'd heard Dean talk about finger-fucking but he always tried to avoid hearing the details of his brother's exploits. Tried not to think about them too much for fear of being driven to permanent celibacy.

She bends one leg and leans back against the pillows as she guides Sam's hand between her thighs. Sam never had permission to touch a girl like this before, and he starts out stroking lightly, feeling the slick wetness between her folds, before pushing first one finger and then his index and middle fingers inside her, the smooth muscle expanding and tightening around his touch. "Yeah, that's--" Gaby pushes her hips up against his hand. "Let me--"

Her hand's on his again, and she moves his thumb, directing him to tuck it up against the little bump he feels there. Sam starts moving his thumb along with his fingers, and Gaby takes in a deep breath, arching her back as she moves her hips in time with Sam's fingers. It's amazing to watch her, the blush rising up on the pale skin of her chest and stomach, her pupils dilating to make her eyes look even darker than before, pieces of hair hanging damp and limp against her face and shoulders as she rides his hand. She gasps and bites down hard on her lip, her hands touching her breasts as the muscles inside her squeeze tight around Sam's fingers and then tremble for long moments, her breathing stuttery until she finally relaxes back against the pillows, taking in deep, slow breaths.

Sam slides his hand out of her and kneels up to kiss her again. He falls asleep with his head on her chest and when he wakes up in the middle of the night he's on his side with her tucked up against him.

When he wakes up again, it's morning, and she's in the shower. Sam pulls on his clothes, not sure if Gaby's brother is going to be home or not, and goes to eat some more of her cereal until he can take his own shower. When Gabby comes out with steam trailing behind her, she's in a long bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her hair like a turban. Sam can't even complain about the lack of hot water when he goes in for his own shower.

She drives him to the hospital again, and it's awkward but not unhappy. She has the day off work, but she comes in with Sam to meet Dean now that he's awake.

Dean opens his eyes when they walk in the room and looks ready to start bitching about something but then he looks over at Gaby then back at Sam and back and forth again. "An older woman, Sammy?" He smirks, and Sam wants to crawl under the bed. "Good boy."

Gaby just laughs, and when she needs to leave Sam follows her out to the hall. He doesn't know how Dean manages this, one night stands and constant good-byes. It doesn't feel right to Sam, but the night before felt right, and he knows that the reality of it is that they'll probably never see each other again. "So, thanks," Sam says, back to feeling like an awkward dork again.

"It was my pleasure." Gaby smiles. "Literally. Take care of yourself, okay? Good luck at school."

Sam tenses, hoping Dean didn't hear that. He needs to talk to Dean, needs to do it soon. "You too. I bet you'll be a great nurse."

"Thanks. I hope so." She has her hair in one long ponytail, and she reaches back to adjust the band around it. "I'm going to hug you, okay?"

Sam nods and wraps his arms around her as she moves into his space. She's warm against him, and part of him wants to think that he could stay, he could go to school near her, she could teach him so much more. But she doesn't offer, and he knows it's not the right thing for either one of them. He steps back, opening his arms to let her go. "Bye, Gaby."

She squeezes his arm tight for a second. "Good-bye, Sam." She turns and walks away. The elevator dings, and as she steps inside John Winchester steps out.

Sam sticks his hands in his pockets and looks down, trying to figure out how many weeks, how many days until he can move into the dorms, until classes start. It'll never be soon enough.


End file.
